


We Wear The Mask

by Hopefullyamayzing



Series: Darkness, Once Gazed Upon [1]
Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:44:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopefullyamayzing/pseuds/Hopefullyamayzing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Call wakes up to discover something very odd on his face......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Wear the Mask

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know this is short, but I hope you like it...
> 
> Also, I don't own any of these characters in Magisterium or the poem, We Wear the Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

We wear the mask that grins and lies,  
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—  
This debt we pay to human guile;  
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile  
And mouth with myriad subtleties,

Why should the world be over-wise,  
In counting all our tears and sighs?  
Nay, let them only see us, while  
We wear the mask.

We smile, but oh great Christ, our cries  
To thee from tortured souls arise.  
We sing, but oh the clay is vile  
Beneath our feet, and long the mile,  
But let the world dream otherwise,  
We wear the mask!  
Paul Laurence Dunbar

Call shuddered as he woke up. He was covered in sweat, but that was no surprise, considering he had just had another nightmare about Master Joseph again. Also, Havoc was gently snoring two inches away from his face. Call threw on a wrinkled uniform from a pile on the messy cave floor, wincing at his leg all the while, grabbed his silver wristband, and woke up Havoc, who got grumpily to his feet. Aaron and Tamara were standing in their common area, waiting for him as usual. As Call shut the bedroom door behind him, and glanced up tiredly at his friends, Tamara screamed. Aaron gaped.  
“Callum- your face!” she gasped.  
“What?” he asked grouchily. ”Did Jasper sneak in here and magic a mustache on my face again? Because I’d like to know how he got access to our rooms, now that Alex Strike has graduated, and pay him back in-”  
“What do we do?” It was Aaron, looking as if his shock had been transformed into complete horror.  
Tamara grabbed Call by his shirt, and pulled him into her room, Aaron following, still very grim. Call realized Havoc had fallen back asleep. He didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Acne? “Look in here,” Tamara ordered, motioning at a mirror tucked in a rocky corner of her room. She seemed precariously near tears.  
“What- oh, no no no!” Call murmured as he stared at the mirror, an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. Placing a hand on the cave wall to keep his balance, Call stared at his face. The usual black hair and empty gray eyes. But what weren’t usual was the angry red burn marks trailing down the right side of his face. The exact same burns that had once had Constantine Madden wear a silver mask.


	2. If the wristband fits...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleaning out Call's room at the Magisterium is never very fun, but when he digs up Constantine's old wristband, it gets even worse. (an almost- drabble)  
> Not directly continuing We Wear the Mask.

Call was clearing out his desk, because Master Rufus had walked into their main room that morning for some reason or another, (to grab Aaron for publicity talks or something, maybe, because he was the sociable Makar?), and declared it ‘a mess.’ So Tamara and he had to clean the room. Without magic, of course. To be fair, though, Aaron was still as neat as Marine. Throwing out shoelaces for Warren, old Bronze Year magical formulae, and thousands of gummi candy wrappers from Alastair, who still sent him candy even though he and Call were sort of on a uncle-brother-friend relationship now, at least that was how Call felt. His hand scrabbled at the back of the desk, as he felt around, and found one last thing, stuck in a corner; large and hard, leathery, and with cold metal bands spanning it. Call knew what it was. He yanked it out anyway. Constantine Madden’s wristband, ending with a Silver Year band, and among many others, a stark black stone, the exact same as Call’s. Though Constantine Madden did not have the tanzanite. He pulled the cuff on his right wrist, nearly overlapping Call’s own. It fit perfectly on his wrist, and weighted heavily on his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short..... It was kinda cool to publish this theory, though, staying in the what-if genre. If anyone has any more ideas for this, please comment it below! When I get a comment, I basically sit and scream happily for about ten minutes....... For any fic author, it gives us a HUGE boost of encouragement. Thank you, guys!

**Author's Note:**

> I was daydreaming and trying to think of more fan theories a few months ago when I thought of this. I will welcome any criticism, and comments, PLEASE. I am sorry it is so short, but I felt it would be a better story that way. If I get some more inspiration, there may be a second chapter, but most of the things I plan on doing in the future will be apocalyptic one-shots that are very open-ended, so possibly not. And I don't think any second chapters will be (not to pat myself on the back) as good as this one.  
> Also, after hearing that poem in English class, I know it is, taken literally, a good idea of sorta Constantine's problems. But taken more metaphorically...... Ok, no more deep thoughts. Have a nice Leap Day!


End file.
